A Murky and Mysterious Past

He holds his head high, looking squarely at the world without shrinking. He has not had an easy life. You can tell that he hasn’t, by the battered condition of his once handsome coat. What adventures has he known? What has he seen? What caused all those scrapes and tatters? He knows, but he doesn’t dwell on the past; he just accepts what is and looks toward the future.

This is the small, chalk figurine who sits at the end of my hallway, the one I call the Carnival Cat. He hasn’t told me his name; he doesn’t wear a tag or any form of identification, but I have a suspicion that at one time, when he was bright and shiny new, all the paint in the correct places that he may have been a prize at some carnival game. Once, a long time ago.

I came upon him in an antique shop in Tahlequah. He was in a dusty corner, sort of tucked out of sight. I’m not sure why I even noticed him. He wasn’t handsome then; he’s not handsome now, but he had a certain aura, a definite force of character and, although he didn’t say a thing, he had a magnetic personality that drew me to him.

Many things have changed around the Carnival Cat since I brought him home. In fact, even his home has changed from a house in Oklahoma to a house in Arkansas. Real life dogs and cats have come and gone, living their lives and then passing on. He has stayed. He doesn’t ask for much, just a corner to sit in, but somehow, he gives me comfort, just knowing he’s there.

If you saw him, you’d notice he’s looking forward, not back. You’d see that, although he bears the scars of a long and eventful life, his head is still up and he sits with dignity and a quiet reserve. Almost, he’s smiling, as if at some memory or a long ago joke. He leads a very quiet life now, far from the crowds and noise of a carnival, but I think that’s all right with him. I’m glad he’s here, in a quiet corner and I’m glad I found him once, years ago, my enigmatic and mysterious Carnival Cat.